Pop culture has become a major force in what artists create,
whether for commerce or craft. Film,
music, acting, and even politics draw from vivid or hazy memories of our
favorite TV shows, celebrity gossip, live concerts and comic books. I have been attempting to isolate the media
touchstones by increments, where the culture and politics and technology all
sort of represent a particular “feel.” A
lot bleeds together and generalities are necessary but here’s the best I can
do. This is heavy on the boomer scale
and this is why. I always consider the
late eighties to be the start of the “age of irony.” Simply put, creators of mass media drew upon
the previous thirty years for inspiration in a much more overt fashion. Creators grew up WITH television, which in
turn increases awareness of film and music and the political circus. I start with 1957. By then, television was in most homes and
movies became something you did on a night out rather than the main source of
entertainment. In 1957, movies were
mostly represented by a sprawling 16:9 ratio leaving TV to the standard 4:5
format. And color film was the norm at
the cinema while the quality of the video increased substantially—no more
kinescope and certainly less live feeds.
Music became intertwined with TV and film culminating in the ultimate
MTV movie mashups of the mid eighties.
Broadway show tune LP’s gave way to film theme soundtracks.
A couple of things happened in the late 80’s that provides a
good demarcation for my purposes here:
Fox—a fourth network who’s first hit was “Married with
Children” a parody of sitcoms past.
Cable News—News was officially entertainment and prime time
competition what with Larry King leading the pack.
Premium TV – HBO and Showtime matured from lasciviousness to
a new “golden age” and films were now broadcast uncut in the living room,
leaving the “event” movie going to popcorn at home.
Videotapes – Again, home box office.
“Adult” programming – For thirty years, permissiveness of
cable and cinema has now permeated to broadcast television (now represented by
a billion stations). Believe it or not,
there was a “specialness” to a raw moment of dialogue or explicitness that made
theatergoing an experience unto itself.
Now, after decades of normalization, society’s mores and language is
informed more by binge worthy water cooler programming than the other way
around.
“Seinfeld” effect – Once again, irony. A show about nothing becoming a comedy
touchstone in 1990 represents nihilism of observational narrative. While brilliant in it’s own right, characters
became callous by nature as the creators wanted to mimic the successful
sensibility of detachment.
HBO Sunday effect – With the blockbuster night of Sopranos,
Sex and the City, and Curb Your Enthusiasm the line between TV and film blurred
even more. Family hour was no longer
counted upon.
Tarantino effect – Whereas Quentin is masterful and genuine
in his appropriation of beloved movie and TV touchstones, filmmakers and
programmers to the point of retro fatigue have emulated his enthusiasm.
Reality TV in the White House
So from 1987 to 2017, I can count less than twenty film and
television milestones that really grab me.
I’ve missed a lot—who has time to see the multitudes among the
voluminous viewing options and trillions of new shows each month. Just reading the descriptions, everything
seems derivative from something else.
And the derivation is located smack dab in the previous thirty
years. Let’s try this:
1957-1963:
Kennedy was king. The
Eisenhower years were still influencing the “whitewash” of media—saccharine
sitcoms for instance. But there was a subversive
element in films and the quality (original golden age) television dramas
represented by the new Beatnik generation (parodied in “Dobie Gillis” and
captured by seminal works of John Casavettes).
Robert Drew brought cinema verite to politics as Camelot allowed DC and
Hollywood to finally consummate a relationship.
The infamous Nixon/Kennedy debate cemented the marriage. Elvis was the King of the forbidden in music
and film. Country was growing out. Ricky Nelson was growing up. This was the “Mad Men” era represented by
“The Apartment” and Bob Newhart’s record-breaking button down comedy. Mid-century was the norm; The Jetsons
informed the future. Crisp and clear
black and white images: the gothic mirth of Psycho and Baby Jane; the televised
wit of Andy Griffith and Dick Van Dyke; the earnest photography of Perry Mason,
Twelve Angry Men and pretty much any Preminger film. Dell paperbacks and comics created a pulp
extravaganza only heightened by a subcultural sleaze in the new availability of
two-reel exploitation in the coming Russ Meyers revolution. Limited animation was now the go-to thanks to
Hanna-Barbera’s menagerie of commercial hits and the corresponding ad agency
design minimalism. Paddy Chayefsky was the voice of the times. These Six years
smell like the attic and sound like a smoky jazz beat.
1963-1969:
How did these post-assassination years deal with a moral
confusion, a national consensus of hopelessness? Images of war in the living rooms? Martin Luther King and Robert Kennedy joining
JFK in senseless violent ends? An era of
upheaval as the LBJ’s New Deal inseminates the Southern Strategy and emboldens
Civil Rights? And culminates in Helter
Skelter? Well, Austin Powers can answer
that. While Stanley Kubrick was pushing
the envelope of doom and anxiety:--sexually (Lolita); politically (Dr. Strangelove)
and prophetically (2001)—most studio fare consisted of 70 mm extravaganzas. Historical flops like Cleopatra, which was
only successful in crowning the first Hollywood royal couple. Vivid and bright mega-comedies from Blake
Edwards and other Mad Mad Worlds merged slapstick with day-glow imagery. James Bond was the rage bringing vacant
sexiness to an emerging violent cinema rooted in subconscious fears. Bond was bound for TV, as spy shows became
the trend. TV basked in escapism whether
it is rural shenanigans and visual entendres (see the denizens of Hooterville)
or the fantastical elements Screen Gems “Bewitched” and “Jeannie.” Is it any wonder that Gene Roddenberry
provided the most though-provoking television in another world via the USS
Enterprise? And Mr. Powers was definitely
hip to the new mod sensibilities. The
Beatles took the world by storm—with Dylan and the Rolling Stones—changing the
musical landscape forever. Those
sensibilities were reflected in film thanks to the new Corman crowd (Fonda and
Nicholson) who brought psychedelic a to the big screen and the small screen
(remember “The Monkees?”). Peter
Sellers—in all his divine schizophrenic madness was figurehead of cinematic
acid trips. Speaking of the big screen,
the French New Wave of the past time period was now reflected in American film
thanks to Warren Beatty’s perseverance (“Bonnie and Clyde”). Mike Nichols shared his voice with Simon and Garfunkel
to create the new modern masterpiece of youthful cynicism. Back on TV, Fred Silverman started the media
manipulation of tots by spearheading the licensing of comic book superheroes to
Saturday Morning—selling cereal and Ideal Toys to kids consuming the soon-to-be
vilified ultra-violence of Jonny Quest and friends.
1969-1975:
The turning point here was the year the Manson murders
occurred (post Rosemary’s Baby…Pulanski’s involvement in both) along with
Midnight Cowboy becoming the first X-rated feature to win the Best Picture
Oscar and the premiere of “The Brady Bunch.”
This period was one of complete despair and confusion. The colorful mod culture morphed into
Woodstock: dirty, naked unshaven
“hippies.” Civil rights laws were now in
full force and activism became thoughtful (if somewhat “immoral”) but also,
highly violent in spurts. Peter Boyle’s
“Joe” (the darkest id of the era’s lovable anti-hero Archie Bunker) represented
the soft-core, utterly grimy feel of early 70’s cinema: Hackman’s antihero Popeye Doyle; Depalma’s
bitter satires; Scorsese’s birth of blood-splattered urbanity; and Satan
speaking through a crucifix defiling waif.
Coppolla’s masterpiece “The Godfather” revived the cinema blockbuster a
couple of years before the Spielberg/Lucas tent pole phenomenon. Woody Allen and Mel Brooks alternately shared
the title of King of Farce. But TV
ruled. It could be argued (and I often
do) that this period represented the most challenging and intelligent
entertainment in BOTH TV and film.
Whereas most of the theaters basically involved “adult”
entertainment—corrupt politics, bold Blaxploitation, horror both ultra bloody
and psychologically damaging, and crudely produced sex comedies---the boob tube
offered the politically incorrect satires of Norman Lear and the human sitcoms
from Mary Tyler Moore’s new empire.
Along with the TV version of Altman’s “MASH,” CBS’s Tiffany lineup on
Saturday nights provides a template for the finest in broadcast television. ABC
and NBC still traded on Day-Glo light romcom laugh track material. Fred Silverman, the chief of programming for
CBS—he who tore down the trees of rural cornpone—was bearing the fruit of his
earlier inspiration, Scooby Doo. Along
with the Archies, Fat Albert and Josie and the Pussycats, Saturday Morning
found a winning formula with mystery solving rock bands. The characters represented a benign version
of the counterculture racially diverse society that was being co-opted by
corporations to exploit into advertising tools.
And while Peggy Charron was fighting violence on kid’s shows, her
organization did nothing to fight the influence of psychedelic drugs as
depicted on the Krofft puppet shows.
Speaking of puppets, a need for educational children’s programming led
to the PBS forming the Children’s Television Network bring “Sesame Street” and
Muppets to the fore…once again giving youngsters a fresh new take on
society—not too unlike the urban cinema mentioned earlier. And much like the commune, music was sort of
hazy and insightful: Harry Chapin’s
haunting ballads, Carole King’s beautiful melodies; The Carpenter’s
depressing/happy musings. The Beatles
were each doing their own things—creating future Muzak. And everything represented raw reality and
possible hope. It was the era of
Watergate. The hangover of the Sixties. Today’s society is at the same point today.
1975-1981
By now it’s time to party.
Colonial grunge gave way to the flairiest of polyester and perms. Porn ‘staches were in as Debbie did Dallas
and Jack Tripper ogled Crissy with mainstream lasciviousness. Although short-lived, the cocaine-infused
Studio 54 ethos swarmed the media landscape. The Bee gee’s and ELO with the
disco craze. Hair metal was permeating
the youth culture what with Kiss and Cooper.
Pop was populated with 50’s nostalgia with Sha Na Na, Fonzie and the hit
musical Grease. This was clearly John
Travolta’s coming out with his triple representation of the above tropes with
Vinnie Barbarino, Saturday Night Fever, and Grease. Even his Urban Cowboy would usher in country
music and Gilly-land to the mainstream after the previous decade found it
meshing with hippie-culture ala Willie.
The public was tired of politics—assassinations and Vietnam and
Watergate were the past. So the peanut
farmer from Georgia represented a Washington DC at the lowest ebb of beltway
scrutiny. It didn’t take long for
uber-programmer to morph from CBS’s arbiter of quality to ABC’s t & a
titillation: “Charlies Angels” and the resulting Farrah phenomenon; Battle of
the Network Stars; Three’s Company and Soap brought the bedroom to
sitcoms. While TV was king, the cinema
became more of a slumming night out.
Some of the best schlock was created in this era with Roger Corman’s
subversive cult classics being born.
Quality cinema was relegated to Oscar telecasts and quiet conversations
with an occasional breakout (“Cuckoo’s Nest,” “Network,” “Shampoo”) usually
digested as a network edited for television movie of the week. Woody Allen was getting serious. And someone had to because the summer
blockbuster mentality arrived with Steven Spielberg’s “Jaws” and George Lucas’s
“Star Wars.” Marvel and DC comics really
started doing character mash-ups now and the legends were being deconstructed
more than ever before. Saturday morning
and kitsch still were home to the superheroes but the big-screen Superman
started the comic book to celluloid invasion.
And probably the longest-lasting pop culture phenomenon was born during
this period: Lorne Michael’s Saturday
Night Live. Belushi, Akroyd, Chase,
Murray, Curtin, and Radner joined their Canadian Second City compatriots Candy,
Short, O’Hara, Levy, Thomas, Moranis, Ramis and Martin in taking satire to all
new levels. Whether it be the new comedy
crudity of the frat-ball slob comedies (Animal House, Meatballs and
Caddyshack), the biting and offbeat commentary inspired by the National Lampoon
brand and Albert Brooks, or the drug-fueled content now permeating the kids
next door (Cheech and Chong: blatant; Steve Martin: kinda sorta implied)…the
icons of comedy would be forever changed from the cue card shtick of Bob Hope.
1981-1987:
Ushering in my final segment of nostalgia is the summer
release of Raiders of the Lost Ark.
After that life-altering experience, the cinematic experience involved
searching for that incredible big-screen knockout that combined pre-CGI action
and effects, wry humor, romance and minimum bloody shocks. And they were found: Wrath of Khan,
Poltergeist, ET, American Werewolf in London, Cat People, Gremlins and Temple
of Doom. Box office bonanzas were found
in the new in your face Reagan-era machismo courtesy of Stallone and the now
emboldened Schwartz egger. Rambo, Rocky
and Dirty Harry replaced the feel-good limp-wristed lineup of socially damaged
anti-heroes. The National Lampoon crowd
now ruled comedy.Landis, Reitman, Ramis…casting retired SNLers while Richard
Pryor and Eddie Murphy were dominating the cultural zeitgeist. Another Lampooner found his voice now: John Hughes.
His sardonic, hysterical and heartfelt odes to youth gave an
unintentional birth to an emo culture.
And in doing so also put the capstone on melding pop music soundtracks
with film. And a lot of that had to do
with MTV. It was during this time that
the most popular videos of all time, by now quaint and archaic were created
along with new careers. There were
one-hit wonders and a synth-beat ethic that breeds warmth through familiarity
rather than social import. Michael
Jackson’s “Thriller” and Murphy’s hit single both reflect this hybrid of
moviemakers and music biz. “We Are the
World” brought all of them together.
Watching that video will give you a quick course in the music icons of
the time. Except two: Madonna and Prince. Her bad girl persona was permeating all
discussion and his “Purple Rain” captured audiences both in vinyl and
celluloid. And while Spielberg’s
suburban fantasies dominated theaters, there was a very strong strain of
urbanity. The geniuses of 70s cinema
were providing a more glossed up studio product but no less brilliant (Lumet,
Pollack, Depalma) but the low-budget schlock became more perverse, more grimy
and more sick. Friday the 13th
franchise would rule the gore porn crowd. These would end up being the best
renters at video shops, now another touchstone of change. And as cheaply made as these were it wouldn’t
be a decade before the slimy genre would go mainstream. The urbanity would extend to TV. Third wheel NBC would now be number one
thanks to the dark humor of Steven Bochco (Hill Street Blues), sexual tempo of
Sam and Diane, and ironically the resurgence of “family TV” with Bill
Cosby. David Letterman’s new hazy late
night talk show was the perfect capstone for the now late-night denizens of a
burgeoning cynical party era as a Lorne-less SNL was losing audience members
(save Murphy, again). Sitcoms were still
re-inventing seventies stars what with Newhart and the Golden Girls adding an
audience-pleasing unreality to the scripts that only complemented the
artificiality of the videotaped family dreck of the now-saturated mullet-haired
comedies. Even Saturday Morning was now
fully invested in creating toys and fast food personas—the Smurfication, if you
will of kid’s shows. The emergence of
Pee Wee Herman (even Pryor) would signal the future of adult-friendly kiddie
shows that would lend themselves to the future of multi-platform viewing. Michael J. Fox created a character in Family Ties,
which speaks volumes on the politics of the time: a young Wall Street-loving conservative, all
alone in his views among his hippie family.
But that yuppie caricature—represented in the burgeoning milieu of Brett
Easton Ellis—combined with the Vietnam vets getting revenge on an unwelcoming
American (liberal) beaurocracy represents the moral confusion that the previous
eras planted the seeds of. One year
later Michael Douglas would win an Oscar for uttering, “Greed is Good” as
Iran-Contra and Oliver North were creating fodder for a new 24-hour news cycle.
